


Fashionably Late

by cielsdemon



Series: Requests [1]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 01:22:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4768259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cielsdemon/pseuds/cielsdemon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Missing souls are cause for alarm. Or, in Grell's case, dress up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fashionably Late

**Author's Note:**

> Much like the title, this fic is a bit overdue, but better late than never, right?
> 
>  _Hi there! Can I request Grell/William, canonverse, undercover shenanigans? Like, they’re undercover for some mission to find out about some lost souls or something of the sort, make-outs and silliness ensue?_ \- the requester 
> 
> Spoiler alert: they don't quite make it to the undercover part but they certainly manage the makeouts ;)
> 
> Also I took some small liberties. This _is_ canonverse just...in 2015. They're still reapers, still reaping. Sorry this note is so long, please enjoy the fic!

Will slips a hand into his pocket and glances again at the clock on the wall. Grell wouldn’t let him wear a watch this evening as that would _spoil the ensemble, darling_ and heaven forbid he do such a thing. A tailcoat suit he hasn’t worn in over a century is _the ensemble_ and he feels a bit silly in it now, gussied up and waiting around for Grell to make her entrance.

 

A suspected demon has been making its way across London, striking at well to-do parties and the like, making a mockery of the Reaper Dispatch. They know where it will show next and Will is determined to stop it.

 

That is, if they can make it in time.

 

The party begins at seven and will likely last until the wee hours, though the demon has always made its appearance roughly halfway through and ruined the remainder of the evening with its chaos. A costume ball is not its usual feeding grounds, but Will supposes any sort of event will do as long as the souls are plentiful.

 

“We’re going to be late,” he calls, leaning against the dark wood banister at the bottom of her staircase.

 

“Fashionably late,” Grell corrects, descending the steps with an air of grandiose he has come to expect. One hand holds fabric gathered at her thigh so she can walk and she does so slowly, modest heels tapping against wood flooring.  She comes to a stop in front of him, dressed head to toe in pale pink silk that skims down her hips and pools in delicate folds at her feet. Embroidered roses are scattered over the dress in subtle thread just a hair lighter than the dress itself.

 

Will can’t look away. His chest feels tight and his hands itch to pull Grell close and kiss off the pink painted across her mouth.

 

“It took me _ages_ to find this,” Grell says, but Will is barely listening. He’s watching the fabric flutter over her shoulders as she gestures with both hands, the way it hugs the strength in her arms and falls smooth down her narrow waist. “All of my old gowns were in storage just in case I needed one for an event like this, but 1910 was so long ago! It was buried under mounds of other outfits.”

 

Will makes a sound that Grell interprets as encouragement. In reality, he’s imagining peeling that dress off of her layer by layer and is having trouble focusing on a single word she’s saying. “Ooh, how I love playing dress up! I had just enough time to make alterations – silk is so delicate and we were pressed for time, but I did it. And I even managed to dress you.” She gusts out a sigh as she passes her hands down his arms, then grins at him.

 

“So? What do you think?” Grell does a little shimmy and the feather sticking out of her hair piece wiggles dangerously close to Will’s nose, snapping him out of his fantasies. The scent of jasmine wafts in the space between them, filling his head all over again with the sort of thoughts he should not be having as they are about to leave on assignment. She grins toothily at the look on his face, eyelids lowered knowingly. Will stares at her another moment and can do nothing but give in to the urge to curl his hand around the back of her neck and draw her into a kiss that steals the breath from both of them.

 

Her hands crawl up his front and cling to his shoulders as he draws her closer to further meld their mouths. All thoughts of the demon vanish, replaced by the plush of Grell’s lower lip between his and the way she sways into his body as if drawn by a magnet. Grell’s fingers slide around to thread through Will’s hair, mussing the short strands at the back of his neck. In response, his hand makes its home in the small of her back, guiding her into arching against him. He parts his lip for her tongue and it glides across his teeth, sinking into the heat of his mouth along with Grell’s quiet exhale. Will inhales that sigh, chest filling with the taste of Grell, the sweetness of her breath on his tongue.

 

They kiss thoroughly, unhurried for all of Will’s earlier impatience, but they still have a job to do. Reluctantly, he drags his mouth from hers, their breath mingling in the scant space between their lips. As he pulls back enough to look down at her, he finds her eyes still closed, lips still pursed in anticipation. Amusement crinkles the corners of his eyes as he palms the warmth of her neck and brings their foreheads to touch softly.

 

Grell exhales against his chin and smiles up at him, tutting softly as she smudges lipstick off of his mouth. “Now, darling,” she scolds playfully, “Look what you’ve done. I’ll have to go back upstairs and fix my makeup before we can leave.” Her eyes glitter, and Will is helpless to resist leaning in for one more kiss. Laughter bubbles against his mouth as Grell pulls away, affectionately pinching his cheek between her fingers. “Wait outside, you. I’ll only be a moment.”

 

Will nods, adjusting his jacket and clearing his throat as Grell steps away and turns to ascend the stairs. She glances back at him just once, a grin curling her lips as she shoos him away with the hand not holding her dress off the floor. When he’s sure she can’t see him, he allows himself a smile.

 

The air is cool when Will steps out onto Grell’s porch and it clears his head from the heat threatening to overtake him. Grell’s fingers feel like a brand on the back of his neck, her lips a lingering taste on his tongue.

 

He takes a deep, slow breath of crisp evening air and reminds himself that they have a job to do. When they’re done, perhaps he will invite her over for a drink to expunge the bad taste demons leave in his mouth. And perhaps after that drink, if he’s lucky, she’ll invite him to pick up where they left off.

**Author's Note:**

> First request done!
> 
> If you didn't know, we're taking fic and graphic requests over on our [blog](http://cielsdemon.tumblr.com). Come send us something!


End file.
